


Sleepless Nights

by spittingfeathers



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Sansa Stark, Battle of backwater AU, De-Aged Stannis Baratheon, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, King Stannis Baratheon, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sansa decided to stay in Kings Landing, Sansa is 20, Shireen is about 11 at this point, Sort of? - Freeform, Stannis is 32, disregarding much of cannon, has now earn that mature rating, seven years after BOTB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2464025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spittingfeathers/pseuds/spittingfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stannis works too hard and Sansa cannot sleep.<br/>M/E for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Stannis/Sansa is my guilty pleasure and just had to get this plot bunny down. Sansa is 20 and decided to stay in Kings Landing and help with relations for the North and her brother Rob who is at Winterfell (no red wedding etc, pretty much disregards cannon but don't all AUs?). Stannis is 32 and pestered by his council to get remarried after Shireen confesses her dislike for being Queen and needs an heir.  
> May post more chapters if I feel like it though anyone is welcome to take this and run with it, there's seriously not enough stannis/sansa fics on AO3

Stannis eases back in his chair with a stifled groan and grits his teeth as he rubs the feeling back into his cramping legs. His eyes burn from tiredness and he shivers, suddenly noticing how cold the air is all around him while the fire has burned down to smoking ashes in the grate. He could rouse a servant and have them attend to the fire, but he doesn’t see much point. You should not waste things in Winter and he intends to retire shortly - there are only two scrolls left to answer.

No matter what anyone says, King Stannis Baratheon is a dedicated ruler and dutiful king.

Though many of them are not in his good graces and expect him to die from overworking himself it did not stop them from throwing their daughters and sisters and cousins at his feet, each greedy face turned simpering and false in their own efforts to grasp for their chance at The Iron Throne. He had dismissed them all and the petitions had stopped after a while but now, seven years later as King, they began again and word soon spread that the King was looking for a wife. 

His first wife, Selyse, had given him a daughter, Shireen who was quiet and bookish as he was as a child. He had left them in Dragonstone while he and his fleet went to attack Kingslanding in the ‘Battle of the Blackwater’. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until later that he found out that the Red Woman had performed more ‘burnings for her Red God and his wife was one of them. Shireen was supposed to be next but Davos’ wife Marya and her sons had managed to get her out and to safety before travelling to Kings Landing once Davos sent for them. 

He had intended Shireen to be his heir though when he told her the brief look of terror on her face had stilled his hand. 

_“Father,” she said softly, “I don’t think I would like to be Queen, I would much rather stay at Dragonstone, everyone is much more truthful there.” While her voice was steady, her eyes pleaded with him and he had nodded at her, touched her shoulder in a brief show of affection and she had smiled and curtsied like a proper lady. He honestly could not fault her, what she had said was true._

At court, which he hated with a passion, ladies made sure to parade themselves about and catch his eye and attempt to look as innocent/sultry/pure as they pretended to be. He was almost tempted to legitimise one of Roberts Bastards - Myra Stone, Edric Storm or even the Blacksmith Gendry - but that would have caused much more upset than it was worth and with Winter slowly coming to a close now the Others had been defeated the Realm needed stability.

Stannis needed an heir, and to get an heir, he needed a wife.

_Best get this over with_ , Stannis thinks and unrolls another scroll. He lights a new candle with the dregs of the old one which has melted down to its base and begins to read. 

His tired look is replaced with an annoyed scowl as he realises it is a missive from his brother Renly. His brother’s letter is a complete waste of paper and he has left small doodles in the corner of annoying Lords and petitions he’s had to endure lately. _And you wanted to be King?_ Stannis thinks with a sigh. Though despite the droll contents of the letter Stannis reads on eventually finding one paragraph that does hold some interest for him though he still grinds his teeth.

… _Imagine my surprise, when I find out not only that my brother is to be marrying again, but to a woman 12 years younger!_  

Stannis can almost feel the glee his brother must have felt when writing this missive. If there is anything that annoys him more than holding Court, it is his brothers teasing about his bride-to-be.

… _It seems you couldn’t scare this one off - a brave young lady to be sure! It is with great pleasure that I can confirm I will be attending your wedding, -_ ** _whenever_** _that may be - and look forward with great anticipation to any nieces or nephews you and your lovely bride may have…_

Stannis sighs and tosses the missive to the side, he supposes it could have been worse, Renly’s letter is quite tame in comparison to their earlier correspondence and decides to push thoughts of it, and his future wife, to the side.

However, he finds it is not so easily done. While he reads the final missive his attention drifts to thoughts of her. Smooth pale skin like porcelain, kind blue eyes and fiery red hair that is thick and soft and shines like copper in the sunlight. 

Sansa Stark, now aged 20 often spends her days with his daughter Shireen. What they talk about he doesn’t know but he has often come to find them reading or sewing or sitting quietly by the hearth of an evening and Shireen seems happier for it. His daughter had even shared her approval with him, _I think Lady Sansa is wonderful, she is a good friend to me and I think…I think she can make you a good wife - a good queen_ father. Though her words were kindly meant they had unsettled him somewhat and he found himself working later and later until Davos had raised a brow and asked why he was avoiding his betrothed. He had denied it but soon realised it was true, he was avoiding Lady Sansa, though why this was he couldn’t say. The Onion Knight had always been able to see through him though why Davos thought he needed _tips_ on how to compliment someone he didn’t know - he was perfectly capable!

The age of his soon-to-be bridehad bothered him at first, only 20 when he was 32 and having grown up in the Red Keep he still remembers the day she was brought to him, shaking, terrified, the blood of Joffrey Baratheon still fresh at the foot of the Iron Throne…

There is a quiet knock on his door and Stannis breaks out of his thoughts, realising he has taken none of the scroll in. He bids them come in and scowls at the parchment, determined to read it properly this time.

He knows who it is already. She closes the door quietly and walks almost soundlessly on soft slippered feet toward him. Her visits to his solar have been increasing in frequency, though he admits she has been useful, now is not the time for a late night chat. It is most improper and should she have been seen coming to or from his solar at such a late (or is it early?) hour the courtiers will have far more to talk about. If there is something he hates more than liars it is gossips. People who live for scandal and strife. People who seek to make his life that much harder by wasting time and not doing their jobs…

“It is late, Your Grace,” she says softly as she comes to stand beside his high-backed chair. “You should rest…”

Stannis does not look at her and a hundred thoughts and replies rush through his head. _I will rest when I am dead. Who are you to tell me what I must do? You are not Queen yet._ it is petty perhaps, but she does not have the right to tell him what to do. He is not a green boy and she his mother. Instead he says “If I have work to do, it will be done. There will be more tomorrow and I would not wish to become behind.” he says evenly, then sighs, “there is very little left,” he tells her, “I will retire when I am done.”

She pauses and comes closer, he can smell the flowery scent she wears. “You are tired.” she places a hand on his shoulder, “the scrolls will wait till the morning.” The warm heat of her hand seems to sear through his shirt and into his skin. He tenses under her hand, unused to such casual contact which she seems willing to give to him so freely.

_A hand looped around his arm, their fingers brush as her hand slides down and she pulls away to curtsey and return to her room…_

_As they walk together in the gardens the heavy hem of her dress brushes against the fabric of his breeches._

_She slips on a patch of ice, her hand grasping at his cloak and she falls into his side, his arms steady her, landing on her waist and she looks up at him, cheeks flushed and lips tilted upwards in a smile that_ **_does not_ ** _have any affect on him at all._

Stannis turns, a scowl on his face, intending to send her away so he will not be distracted and finally finish the work so he can go do bed and—

When he catches sight of her his mind and mouth are suddenly bereft of words.

Lady Sansa Stark smiles at him, her blue eyes are amused at his lack of words and looks at him patiently. 

She is in her night clothes.

Why is she in her night clothes?

Well, yes, it is night but surely she would need something warmer in this weather? Though the fires burn strongly in many parts of the Red Keep it is still quite cold. Surely a thick robe over the top of that flimsy excuse for a gown would have done? He wants to tell her so but he cannot seem to get the words out.

He has seen a woman in less before - why is the sight of her like this enough to dry his mouth and seize his throat in such a way?

SHe wears a silky gown of pale blue, terribly unsuitable for the cool early morning hour and a gauzy robe over the top that does nothing but _shimmer_ in the golden light from the candles. Her hair is loose and flows over her shoulders in red waves to her waist, long and freshly brushed, he supposes it must be soft. He refuses to imagine what it would be like to run his fingers through it, gather it in his hands, or even _gently pull_ …

He knows he has looked too long, though it has only been a matter of seconds before he shoots his eyes to her face. “You work so hard Your Grace - if anyone deserves rest it is you.” Lady Sansa slides her hand down his arm - his skin pimples and prickles, a trail of fire burning in its wake and comes to a stop, resting gently atop his hand. 

He cannot look away. Her skin is like cream, dainty with long slender fingers and so soft it is the complete opposite of his own larger, rougher, veined hand. 

“This is highly improper, My Lady,” he eventually manages to say. There is a burning heat building at the back of his neck, waiting to spread to his face, and he hopes she will ignore the roughness in his voice. “I would not have any question your honour—“

“Of course not,” she says simply, there is almost, dare he say it, a fondness in her voice. She lets her thumb gently swipe back and forth over his knuckles. He is not prepared for this. He and Selyse were never close, could barely tolerate each other enough to do their duty. Now, the increasing closeness his _soon-to-be Lady Wife_ , _soon-to-be Queen_ , approaches him with has left him stumbling. 

Stannis pulls his hand away and gets to his feet quickly, moving to stand at the opposite side of his chair and looks at her stonily. She is not perturbed by his glare and simply smiles politely at him.

“I will escort you back to your rooms, My Lady.” he says and later he will admit grudgingly to himself that his heart is beating far faster than it has any right to be. This feeling is far too strange to be allowed and he wonders whether he is coming down with something. It is far too hot in the room where it was chilly only moments before. Perhaps it is a fever.

She steps away from the chair so she is facing him. “We have been engaged several moons now—“ she approaches him, all air and light and silk, her hair like fire and eyes like the rolling sea as she approaches him, that pleasant expression on her face worries him like little else. He has to fight the urge to step back, she should not come any closer, apart from being terribly improper she is without a chaperone, in her night clothes and in his study in the early hours of the morning.

“We are to be married soon.” she says and she is within an arms length. He takes a step back but she follows him, her dainty slippered feet elegantly matching one of his ungainly movements. Why can he not seem to find his footing when she is around?

“What is it you want, My Lady?” Stannis wants this uncomfortable scene to be over and done with as soon as possible so she can return to her room and he to his.

She is far too close and he feels the edge of a table at the back of his legs and her innocent smile grows a little wider.

“Why, My Lord, I could not sleep. Knowing you too would be awake at this hour I decided to visit.”

Stannis draws himself up to his full height and looks down at her.

“Then I would suggest returning to your chambers and closing your eyes.” Stannis snipes.

She places a hand on the front of his doublet and he hopes she can’t feel his hearts hurried beat through his clothes. “I tried My Lord,” she says softly looking up coyly through her lashes. “I could not settle.”

He thanks the numerous, _fake_ , Gods that are watching that his voice doesn’t waver. “Perhaps a warm drink then.”

The amused look in her eyes says he is missing the point but Stannis wonders whether she had one in the first place. “A kiss.” she says demurely, “a kiss would surely settle me My Lord” and suddenly he can feel her slippers between his booted feet and her silk clad form pressing gently against his front.

Sansa’s other hand reaches up and rests against the side of his face, her lips pulling up in a soft smile as she smooths her fingers over his short beard and sharp cheekbones. 

They may be engaged but he had told her from the outset that they were only marrying for an heir. She would not expect love or affection but he would treat her well, she would be safe with him and as long as she did her duty they could live a content life. He will admit he had almost come to enjoy their time together, and once she had relaxed enough in his presence she could be as blunt as him,

Why she would choose to mock him now was a mystery that only set to anger him.

“What game are you playing, who put you up to this?”

Her fingers paused on his face, though she did not move away. “I have no interest in games My Lord, and none put me up to this but myself. You see, as I have said before, we are to be married soon and usually courting couples spend time together, sharing stories and likes and dislikes, and some of that time is spent _kissing_. I have thought on it for quite some time and have known for just as long, if not longer, that I would quite like to kiss you.” She wanted to kiss him. kiss. him. “Though I know you have been busy sometimes it feels as though you have been avoiding me and thus I have not been able to share my thoughts on this matter… _May_ I kiss you, My Lord?” 

He is stunned.

What else could he do but nod?

Sansa’s hand slides from his cheek to the back of his neck while the other grips his shirt, bringing herself up onto the balls of her feet she presses flush against him and her breath curls warm against his cheek. Being near her like this oddly makes his head swim and while one hand goes back to grip the table behind him, the other finds purchase on her hip and he is transfixed at the slow smile on her face. Then, so gently that he could barely feel her there, she presses her lips to his.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's nice to know I'm not alone in wanting more Stansa! Here's another little bit for you, I had far too much fun writing this!   
> Enjoy!

Her soft lips move gently against his thin ones and he is stunned. She doesn’t have to do this - he wants to ask her, tell her that she need not…but hadn’t she said she wanted to? His betrothed is not one to make jokes. When speaking with him she knows to be blunt, to always tell him the truth. That means she wants to kiss him. Kiss. _Him_.

Sansa sighs softly against his mouth, her slim fingers play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck and gives them the smallest tug.

Stannis breathes out heavily, the tension in his shoulders leaving him in one heavy breath and tentatively he moves his own lips against hers. He has never done much kissing before. He can count the times on one hand, and never much enjoyed it. But now, as Sansa lets out a little moan and presses herself against him more strongly he finds he is very much enjoying the here and now. His other hand that had been gripping the table behind him reaches forward and rests on her other hip, thumb smoothing over the soft silk of the gown in soothing little circles that make her sigh and press herself a little more into his hand.

*****

The barest of touches from him is enough to set her on fire. His hands on her hips are like a brand searing through her nightclothes and she welcomes the burn. It had been bold of her to come to him at this hour, brazen to be dressed how she is and how they are pressed together now. They are both breathing heavily and his hand grips her hip while she smooths her hand up and down his chest and lets the other pull his hair gently, she must look wanton with her eyes half-lidded when she peeks at him. As they kiss heat pools in her belly and she cannot seem to get enough of him, they could stand and kiss all night and she would not complain.

The soft fabric of her nightgown feels lovely against her skin and she sinks into the kiss, leaning heavier against Stannis. Though she wants to see his face she cannot command her eyes to open, they are far too heavy and she is lost in the sensation of kissing him. She had never dreamed it would be like this. She had initially thought about just pecking him on the cheek or on the lips, but the look of stunned awe when he saw her state of dress made her bold and while she admits this has progressed a little further than she originally planned, it is not something she regrets. Not at all. 

Eventually, though the kissing is wonderful, she makes a little whine as her leg cramps and has to pull away. Her eyes are half-lidded and lips swollen from the kiss making a soft sound as they pull away from each other. Stannis’ eyes are fierce as he looks at her, the pupils blown wide and his lips slightly parted as he catches his breath. She now blushes, feeling the gravity of what had passed between them show on her face in a brilliant flush of colour. 

“Was that sufficient to settle you, my Lady?” Stannis asks, his voice is rough and it sends a blast of heat through her.

“Oh no, My Lord.” she says quietly, her eyes say she is amused though her voice is solemn. “I fear I will not be able to sleep at all now…I shall be awake _all_ night. Perhaps another?”

Stannis lets out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan and his hands tighten on her hips before they relax and he leans down and presses a soft kiss against her lips. It is sweet and much shorter than she’d like but any longer and she would have been tempted to just _stay_.

“You sorely test me, my Lady. You best return to your room before the Keep wakes or else there will be much talk.” Stannis says and she can feel the strength in his large hands at her hips and if Stannis is tempted then she is doubly so, standing near him like this.

Sansa lets out a breathy sigh and smiles suddenly feeling a little shy with the way he looks so intently at her. “Of course, my Lord…it is very late.” her hands fall away from his chest and she steps back. Immediately, they both feel the cold of the room as the chilly air rushes to fill the space between them and Sansa shivers. It is with disappointment that Sansa curtsies and moves to turn away.

“I will escort you back.” Stannis announces and moves into step beside her, quickly pulling his usual jacket from the back of his chair to hang over her shoulders. They stand still a moment, both thinking of the time when he will wrap his cloak around her shoulders and call her _wife_. _Queen._ She smiles gently at him.

They encounter no one on their way back to her room and though they walk in silence it is comfortable, the energy and knowledge of their earlier kiss springs between them like little bolts of light and heat. Each is hyper-aware of the other and both hide their new awareness of the other well.

“You came without a guard.” Stannis says quietly.

Sansa smiles at him sheepishly, “I did not want to be seen - even white-cloaks talk where little birds can hear.”

Stannis snorts but he turns a serious look on her, “You will not come without a guard again. Though it is the Red Keep…it is still the _Red Keep_ and I would not have you harmed.” From Stannis Baratheon that could almost have been a declaration of love. “Though my men are all around there are still ways to enter unseen and—“

“Of course,” Sansa looks at him fondly, squeezing his arm, carefully hiding her delight at feeling the hard wiry muscles. She looks at his stern, thin face. He is not an obviously handsome man, but there is a fierce beauty to him that Sansa cannot help but notice. Also, had he grown his beard a little thicker and dressed in furs and mail rather than his shirt and doublet he could have been a Northern Lord. Thinking this gave her a further comfort, a sense of being at Home while being so far away from Winterfell. 

All too soon they reach her room and Sansa curtsies again.

“Goodnight, Your Grace. Sleep well.”

Stannis looks at her intently, composed and his usual stern self once more. “And to you. Goodnight, My Lady.”

Sansa blushes and closes the door behind her, no longer able to contain her giddy smile and resist reaching up to touch her lips. 

From the corner of her room, sitting at her table and picking at the fresh grapes Sansa had left at supper, Shae coughs and raises a dark eyebrow. “Well?” her friend says, “I thought you weren’t coming back you took so long.”

*****

Stannis doesn’t immediately move away from the door and then he can hear voices and his formerly relaxed state fades abruptly.

“Well?” the voice is familiar to him - her maid whom had been with Sansa the night of the Blackwater, her blades flashing in the moonlight as she glared steadily at them, Sansa shaking with nerves behind her. “I thought you weren’t coming back you took so long.”

Stannis’ usual frown appears and thinks, _she wouldn’t tell her maid, surely?_ Their relationship was private. If she told her maid, details would be all the way to the Wall by morning he was sure…

He hears her sigh dreamily from the other side. “Oh Shae, I would have stayed _happily_ …” the maid chuckles and Stannis grinds his teeth hoping she won’t say anything else. “…I shall say nothing more than that!” 

_Good._

Sansa yawns. “Now, I must try and get some sleep before morning else I shall look worse than a Wight…” He lets out a quiet breath and feels relief sweep through him. Though he had known before that his betrothed was not a gossip he was incredibly private and didn’t feel comfortable with her telling even her maid about their _meeting_. Relationships are between two people, not two people and the rest of Kings Landing and…

Then what she says sinks in. _I would have stayed happily._ Stannis blinks owlishly before he walks back to his rooms in a daze.

As he readies himself for bed and lays down, her words echo in his head and seep into his dreams.

_I would have stayed happily…_

*****

The week after ‘The Kiss’ as Sansa refers to it in her mind, is wonderful and she is very distracted. During court Shae has taken to poking her when she starts to daydream, though many of them are only being nice to her to further their own positions, slighting them by not paying attention would not be the best way forward. She _has_ to make them love her. She _will_ be a good queen. 

Sansa starts seeing Stannis much more often, walking past with Davos or heading to the Small Council chambers for meetings, he even walked with her through the Godswood once. It had been a cool day and weak sunlight filtered through the trees making patterns on the ground. Stannis had offered her his arm and she had taken it. Though it wasn’t necessarily proper for them to be alone together - and so close to the wedding - she doubted anyone would think either of them being improper. Stannis being so grumpy and cold to many and Sansa seen as the blushing maiden, kind and sweet but far too shy to try and seduce her betrothed before they were wed. 

She was sure _she_ didn’t needto be seduced.

Well, what the court didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

The next week, Stannis did his best to have dinner with them every night and when he arrived Sansa would do her best to have already packed away her maidens cloak. Though she’d finished the embroidery already she just loved looking at it. She would not wear it for a very long time during the ceremony as once they said their vows it would be replaced with Stannis’ Baratheon cloak and then there would be the feast and then the bedding—

“Are you alright Sansa?”

Shireen looked at her with curious eyes and Sansa smiled at her soon-to-be step-daughter reassuringly.

“Of course Shireen, I am quite well. Just thinking…” 

“What about?”

“Hmm? oh well, what books I should like to read next of course. Much of the plans for the wedding has been finished already and I find myself with very little to do.” _Except daydream about your father…_

“Really?” Shireen said worriedly, “Are you sure you’re alright, you’re quite red!”

Sansa patted her cheeks, feeling the heat immediately and hummed. “Well I am quite warm, Shireen - it must be my Northern blood. Did you know in the North it sometimes gets so cold that if your eyes water the droplets turn to ice on your cheeks?”

Luckily her step-daughter was now diverted and was eagerly asking questions about Winterfell and her life there.

To force the heat from her cheeks Sansa quickly thought of something awful like mushrooms or boring lessons taught by the maester at Winterfell and tried not to think of Stannis wearing his best clothes and cloak and asking her to come to bed… _oh dear_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May not update this for a while as I have plenty of university work to get done though when inspiration strikes...who knows! Hope you liked it :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa continues to take control and be a bold noble lady ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was only meant to be a one shot - now I've already started the fourth chapter and maybe have plans for a fifth. This fic has got a will of its own...and also a little bit of smut...*fans face*  
> Was very hard to write this, hopefully my first attempt isn't too awful haha.

The dress she wears now is one of her favourites, warm and comfortable she dons it as often as she can. They light grey fabric is soft against her skin and whispers as she moves. She’s added to it when she has time, small delicate stitches in pretty patterns around the neckline, waist and hems in thin gold thread that glints in the light. Sansa likes that it is simple, understated. Wearing something so comfortable and flattering gives her confidence and she’ll need it if everything goes to plan.

It is not yet night and it has been a week since their last kiss but she longs for another and perhaps a little more - to be pressed against him on the love seat, much more comfortable than standing which means that she can kiss a little longer this time without her legs cramping.

They’d shared dinner tonight, she, Stannis and Shireen, talked a little by the fire before the Princess had yawned and excused herself to bed. It wasn’t late - barely dark - but the secret smile she sent Sansa before she left with the guards told her all she needed to know. Sansa thanked the gods for giving her such an understanding step-daughter and bid her goodnight.

Courage now, Sansa. You can do it. she thinks to herself. She stands from the love seat gracefully as she can and walks over to the fireplace to stand beside Stannis under the guise of warming her hands. She can feel him watching her and she straightens her shoulders - it’s curiosity she sees when she flicks her gaze up through her lashes.  
Sansa smooths her hands slowly down her sides across the skirt, brushing imaginary specks of dust from her clothes. She feels stupid doing this, Stannis is probably wise to her intentions by now, especially after she had come to see him in her night things. The thought of that meeting sends a spark of heat down her spine and her cheeks to turn pink. Honestly, the things she had done and seen should have rendered her incapable of blushing by now!

“I will take my leave of you—“ Stannis interrupts her musings and her eyes shoot to his stiff face looking intently at her.

“You don’t have to...leave I mean. Stay a little longer?”

Her comfortable dress now feels too tight and all the air seems to have disappeared from the room as he slowly walks forward until they are so close they’re almost touching.

“Sit with me?” she says and they sit. Close to one another on the comfortable cushions she doesn’t know what to say.

Gods above they both know she didn’t ask him to stay to talk (though that would be lovely too) she has missed their kiss and very much wishes to do it again. There have been pecks of course, to the cheek, forehead and on the soft skin of her hands. But never her mouth which is where she wants him.

Stannis seems to look everywhere but her and it seems she will have to take the first step once more.

Go on Sansa, you can do it.

There. That wasn’t hard.

Stannis looks at the hand resting on his knee and then back up to Sansa’s flushed face, his eyes had widened briefly before he seemed to gain control of himself once more.

His voice is rougher than usual and low as he speaks quietly to her as though he thinks they will be overheard. “My lady—“ He’s going to object, try and defend her honour though there will be no one around to see it and if they are betrothed and both intend to marry what is the harm truly?

“There are few times when we are together without others and when Shireen retires it is not a clue for you to leave too…” Seeing the bemused expression on his face Sansa wonders if perhaps Stannis had missed the hints Shireen had been leaving him. Retiring early so they could spend time alone together, suggesting walks or books for Sansa to read or needing to suddenly leave to visit the library.

A knowing glint forms in his eye and she blushes again. Gods what must he think of her?

“Very well.” he says and Sansa smiles.

There is an short pause before they both seem to act on the same impulse, leaning forward, their lips touching softly, tentatively at first before Sansa’s hands move to grip his shoulders and Stannis’ hands slide around her waist as she shuffles closer on the love seat to press against him.

The kiss is slow and languid, all lips and soft sighs until Sansa runs her tongue softly along Stannis’ lip and he opens his mouth with a huff, her tongue teasingly brushing against his. There are a few occasions where they bump noses and their teeth click against one another but she doesn’t mind because she can taste the lemon water he drinks and his short beard is softer than she’d expected and not at all rough or scratchy.

Sansa carefully opens one eye and looks at Stannis, his eyes are closed and there are two spots of colour high on his cheeks. She smiles into the kiss and closes her eye, falling back into the soft motions of the kiss and whimpering as Stannis’ tongue and lips move against hers - surprising at how fast he’s picking up what she likes when he has so little experience with such activities.

It’s almost without any conscious decision that her hands slide from his shoulders, up his neck and around the back of his head to brush through his short hair, her nails graze his scalp and his hands tighten on her hips. He lets out a groan that sends wildfire coursing through her blood and she lets out another whimper in response when he pulls her into his lap.

Suddenly realising what he’s done (accidentally-on-purpose) Stannis freezes, looks startled and apologetic, his eyes are open now and she can see he’s about to retreat into himself.

“None of that,” Sansa murmurs against his lips, shifting so she straddles his thighs and gets comfortable. His look of awe makes her look at him from beneath her lashes and slowly she leans forward to kiss him again. They begin again, kissing and teasing each others lips slowly until they reach where they were before and it is unbelievably lovely to be here with him like this. She sends a prayer up to the gods to thank them for giving her such an insightful step-daughter and shuffles closer so she and Stannis are pressed chest to chest.

What she hadn't bargained for was this position allowed much more contact than proper for courting couples, but to tell you the truth they could have been kissing on the iron Throne in the middle of court and she wouldn’t have cared. Not when she could feel him hard beneath her and wildfire burned hot through her veins instead of blood.

She’s so lost in the sensations that she’s not rightly sure when she begins to rock against him while they kiss, but only that Stannis’ groan rumbles from his chest, straight through her own to rest between her legs where she aches.

“Stannis—“ Sansa breathes, grinding down against him and her head tilts back, eyes closing as pleasure shivers through her. The feelings that swell inside her are familiar but have never been so strong or intense as this, her mouth opens and her gasps are all too loud in the quiet room. It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, all cares and responsibilities flying out the window until only she, Sansa, and he, Stannis, are left. His hands grasp her hips in rough movements as he lets out raspy breaths and pulls her down against him. The pleasure that has been building seems to swell and she knows she is close. Sharp little spikes of sensation rush through her and brief shots of light flash before her eyes, all sound fading as she rushes toward her peak.  She shudders as she comes apart in his arms, his hips buck up against hers and his hands on her hips pull her down so she grinds harder against the bulge in his breeches.

Sansa pants against his neck, pressing soft nipping kisses behind his ear and down his throat as Stannis tries to rein in his breathing.

It’s hot and dirty - they are not yet married - but she doesn’t care. By the Gods why are they not married yet?

“I swear—you will be the death of me woman.” he says, his voice is low and relaxed, and allows more of his usual humour to shine through.

Sansa giggles against his throat feeling limp and lazy and warm as she tucks her head under his chin. She could stay like this forever, sitting astride him and feeling the heavy weight of pleasure hanging around her. She feels his hand rove up and down her back in slow smooth strokes and Sansa smiles to herself, thinking that being bold had its advantages. Perhaps she could be like this a little more often.

“I hope so My Lord,” Sansa purrs, sighing contentedly into Stannis’ neck, placing a soft kiss just below his ear that makes him shiver. “Lots of sweet little deaths made for sharing…”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is fluff and some teasing.  
> (Smut next chapter I swear)

Sansa had to admit she looked beautiful. Her Tully blue eyes were bright and her skin pale and clear like freshly fallen snow. Shae had braided her hair back from her face, the intricate pattern was knotted and twisted and fixed at the back of her head letting the rest of her long silken hair fall down her back in waves. Simple but lovely. The dress on the other hand was anything but simple, but it was gorgeous. Thousands of beads and the tiniest gems had been stitched into the bodice so whichever way she moved the gems would catch the light as though the stars had been pulled from the sky and sewn into her dress. Intricate lacework covered her shoulders and arms down to her wrists, each time she looked at it Sansa was awed anew at the skill and time that must have gone into making it. The lace was filled with swirling patterns and winter flowers it was truly a shame she would never be able to wear this dress again. Though the dress was form fitting it was demure and there were no exposed backs or sides or bellybuttons like some of the dresses Margery used to wear.

Sansa smiled to herself at the thought of Stannis’ face had she come to the sept wearing something like that.

Shae finished braiding her hair and retrieved the jewelled combs her mother had sent especially.

In an hour, Sansa would be married. Wife to Stannis Baratheon and Queen of the seven Kingdoms, and the nearer it came for her to leave, she felt the panic build just a little bit more. Not about being queen of course, she had been Queen unofficially for two years but…other things had been on her mind more often as of late…which Shae seemed to find incredibly amusing. “Don’t laugh, Shae! It is most unhelpfull!“ Sansa told her.

Her hand-maiden did her best to school her features into a repentant expression.

“Forgive me, my Lady,” Shae replied quickly though there was an amused glint in her eye as she easily fixed the silver combs with sapphires and pearls into her fiery hair.

Sansa chewed on her lip while she did it waiting a moment before she asked in a whisper, too low for anyone other than she and her maid to hear should they have been listening. “But what if…what if I’m not very good at it?” Stannis and she had shared moments where there was heat and passion and sometimes tenderness, a soft, fragile thing that she hoped they’d have time to explore later, but she couldn’t help but worry. What if, when the time came to do their duty…well, what if something went wrong or she didn’t do it right—

Shae looked at Sansa with a veiled smirk. “Do you want some tips, my lady?” trying to hold back her laughter when she saw Sansa’s face turn dark with a fierce blush. Then, to her surprise Sansa took a deep breath and nodded firmly. Her lady was very determined. Shae’s smile was full of teeth and Sansa was reminded of her siblings Direwolves when they played chase together or hunted. “Perhaps there are a few things I could tell you…”

*****

Much to Davos’ amusement, his King was completely unaware of anything except his bride. He ate and drank with the same precision he usually did though seemed to taste nothing. “What is so amusing to you Lord Hand?” Stannis asked when he caught Davos smiling.

“Oh, nothing your Grace. I simply wish thank you for seating my family and I on the high table with yourself and the Queen. It is an honour.”

“I would have no other Davos. This you know.” Stannis nodded with a slight twitch of his lips before he turned back to his previous occupation. Drinking lemon water. And watching the Queen.

Davos had to admit she was a beauty. She outshone all the ladies at court - except his own wife of course but he was biased. Queen Sansa had a way about her that drew Stannis’ Lords and ladies like bees to honey. She was kind and gentle and listened with compassion and concern to their queries and problems, offering logical solutions that impressed both he and the King.

She was the soft to Stannis’ sharp, the gentle to his harsh and the warmth to his cool demeanour. Though both were fair and just, Queen Sansa made her husband likeable - made him human - and the way she’d made changes about the Red Keep and even to the King himself (seeming far more relaxed most days) she was perhaps more of an asset than they had first imagined.

The crown Stannis had ordered for Queen Sansa was a smaller copy of his own, fitting her perfectly and wearing it like she was born to it.

Davos watched as the Queen smiled at Stannis, touching his forearm and leaning in to murmur something beside his ear, eyes dancing as she pulled back and…by the gods, the King looked as though he was blushing…

“Davos,” Stannis said, and yes, he was right, there were two spots of colour high on the King’s cheeks - barely noticeable but still there. “We will be retiring now, make sure we’re not followed. There will not be a bedding and anyone who tries to implement it will spend a night in the cells, understood?”

“Of course your Grace, I’ll see it done.”

******

“Are you ready?”

Sansa smiled and stood, linking her arm through his, aware that every eye in the room had turned toward them, getting to their feet immediately. Everyone else followed till all their guests were on their feet (those who were swaying or being propped up by others included). She hoped there would not be too much fuss about the ‘bedding’ ceremony. Though she was older, she still didn’t like the idea of her clothes being removed by anyone other than her betrothed - especially as it brought back memories of her time before the Battle of the Blackwater when she had been beaten and stripped… Sansa pushed away the awful memories - today was meant to be a happy day! She was married to Stannis Baratheon who was strong and dutiful and kind. She was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and so far she had won over a sizeable portion of Stannis’ Lords and Ladies. And they would soon be going to bed.

“…there will be no bedding.” She pulled herself from her thoughts, realising Stannis was talking and smiled a little wider. Though there was some muttering it was quickly stifled under her husband’s cold stare.

“Also,” Sansa said, when an awkward silence fell and felt the weight of every eye settle on her, “we would like to thank you all for coming to our wedding and sharing this day with us. Your gifts and words of congratulations are very much appreciated. Please feel free to stay and eat and drink your fill!”

Down below, someone from the back of the room yelled out, “TO THE KING AND QUEEN!” raising his glass high in the air and spilling some down his arm, clearly the man had indulged in one too many, though his gesture and words were quickly followed by the rest of the hall.

Stannis stood stiffly by her side as loud cheers and clapping filled the air around them. They waited a moment before they walked arm in arm from the hall.

Sansa looked to Stannis and blushed to find him looking at her curiously. “Too much?” she asked, an embarrassed tone to her voice.

“No. Not at all.” he replied quietly, barely audible above the cheers and chatter of the guests they’d left behind. “You were very…eloquent.”

Sansa chuckled softly and gently squeezed Stannis’ arm, leaning on him briefly to show she appreciated his words. He was not usually one for flattery, but his efforts with her made each one all the more special.

The halls of the Red Keep were quiet, the servants clearly having finished their tasks and returned home for the day. The only sounds now were the soft swish of her dress against the polished floor, the tap of Stannis’ boots and the muted clanking of the Kingsguard walking at a respectful distance behind them. It had been declared a holiday (Stannis had protested of course) for the wedding of the King and Queen, so their quarters were empty when they entered and closed the door behind them.

Sansa’s skin prickled as they walked from their living quarters to what would be their bedroom, the air crackled with tension, both of them too aware of the atmosphere to speak and break whatever spell had been cast between them.

*****

She was beautiful, and far too good for him. Stannis wondered how on earth he had managed to win the favour of the Gods to have her accept his proposal. Perhaps they had shown mercy on him, for once deciding that the loss of his parents to the sea and brother Robert to drink, women and irresponsibility was enough.

Their room was warm with fresh sheets on the high four poster bed and pillows piled high against the headboard. There was fruit, cold meats and a pitcher of lemon water were placed on the cabinet and there was a bowl, cloths and pitchers of water ready to be filled in the morning to wash.

“Stannis?” Sansa looked at him with amusement as she touched his cheek and brought him back to himself. “What has my husband so distracted, hm?” she asked softly, her hand trailing down the side of his face to his neck and across the front of his doublet where she began to tease the gold buttons holding it closed.

He could not speak, his throat dry and suddenly nervous as though he were the maiden.

“Nothing, My Lady.” he said eventually, voice rough.

“Nothing?” she said with surprise, stepping closer to him so her shoes were placed between his own, almost chest to chest.“Why My Lord, I have been distracted for _weeks_.” His queen undid the first and the second button on his doublet and smiled mischievously at him.

Stannis prayed, for the first time in decades, for the Gods to give him strength.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa just can't help being a tease.


	5. chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it happens...  
> *hides red face*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta, all mistakes are mine..  
> As an early christmas present for you all ;)

Sansa had gently laid her dress across the chaise at the back of the room with her small clothes and turned to him in only her silken shift, blushing and nervous but excited in a way that left him breathless.

His eyes didn’t leave her face the whole time she walked toward him, despite being sorely tempted to drift across her shift with the way she gently swayed her hips. “You are overdressed, My Lord.” she murmured, a hairsbreadth away from his lips. It was impossible, considering Stannis already felt naked himself. “I would have your skin against mine…” and if that didn’t set his blood aflame then nothing would.

His doublet had been discarded somewhere in the room, shirt unbuttoned and boots kicked away only his breeches remained untouched. He couldn’t help letting the rough gasp escape his lips as her hand gently brushed against his laces. Sansa smiled, a touch smug at his reaction, and Stannis leant down to kiss her, surprise sweeping across her face quickly followed by a contented sigh as her eyes closed.

Wary about tripping over anything (and wouldn’t that go down well) he guided her to the bed, her hands on his chest, snaking around his neck as they kissed. When Stannis’ legs hit the back of the bed he sat, breaking the kiss making her eyes open. He was smug at her dazed look though it faded fast when he saw her smile, eyes full of mischief and heat.

His lady wife straightened and moved his legs apart with her own before stepping between them. His face now level with her chest, she slowly pushed his shirt from his shoulders and removed the laces from his breeches, teasingly brushing against his hardness, her eyes heating when he hissed at the feeling. Once they were unlaced Stannis removed his breeches and underclothes with barely a thought, letting them slump in a creased pile on the floor, only aware of the frenzied pounding of his heart and the heat between them.

She kept her bright blue eyes on his, not once looking away or afraid as he suspected a maid might. Though she was a maid, he knew, having been looked over by a Silent Sister. Though had anyone seen the way they’d kissed and rocked against each other, it may have come into question. She had been bold even before they were married - the night where they kissed and evening where they rocked against one another on the loveseat often came into his mind when he was working—or sleeping—or trying to get through another boring petition by some jumped-up lord who thought he deserved more than his due…

She moved easily to sit astride him, her hands moving up to slide across his shoulders and link around the back of his neck as her shift rode high upon her soft thighs. Sansa smiled softly at him.

“Now it is me who is overdressed,” she said, leaning in, eyes closing and long lashes fluttering against her cheeks.

It almost felt as if someone else was controlling his body, his eyes closing and both leaning in toward the other till he felt the soft press of her lips against his. Their kiss was soft and slow. There was no desperation as perhaps there had been before - afraid of being caught, not knowing if they would get the chance again…but now they were married, they had all the time in the world.

Stannis felt his wife smile against his lips and he frowned, opening his eyes as he felt her take his wrist in her hand.

“Touch me,” she murmured against his lips, still smiling as she shuffled forward. Stannis bit back a gasp when he felt the lightest brush of her thin shift against his shaft and then as she moved he can feel her curls brush against him and he is reminded yet again that she has already removed her small clothes, keeping very still against all odds, wanting to see what she would do next. Sansa peeked at him through her lashes, almost shy as she guided his hand from the bedcovers to where her thigh met the end of her shift. She hummed against his lips when his thumb smoothed gently over her skin, kissing him again though her hand is still on his wrist, guiding it up underneath the soft silk of her last remaining item of clothing to press against her warm skin. “Please,” she says and kisses him a little harder this time, her lips moving insistently against his.

It is difficult, he thinks, to try and remain calm or composed or courtly when his lap is full of a sighing maid who seems to take great delight in his company (and kissing him, most certainly). This time, he cannot bite back the groan as she guides his hand beneath her shift to her breast and presses her hips against his.

He moves back against her, small movements that make her hum against his lips and her skin seems to heat up, burning hotter as their kisses become more insistent and she whimpers as she rocks against him. She has let go of his wrist, his hand now free to feel the weight and shape of her breast in his palm, gently brushing his thumb against the nipple and underside, repeating the motions when she stills and whimpers.

*****

They move back on the bed, Sansa feeling thoroughly out of breath, nervous and excited as butterflies flit about her chest and the warm coil of pleasure builds in her belly. Her arms are wrapped around his neck and legs around his hips as he moves to lay her on her back, doing so with such ease it is as though she weighs nothing. Sansa would have thought him unaffected but for the fact his eyes are dark with want and she can feel him hot and hard against her thigh.

Each movement he makes as he carefully positions himself above her, and then between her legs, is carefully controlled and sometimes so cautious she has to be the one to guide him. His strong forearms and elbows rest either side of her head to keep him from crushing her. It feels as though she has been waiting so long for this—for this moment, for the sense of connection and the need to be closer to this man.

Her shift was removed some time ago, probably beginning to crease where they’d thrown it, though she can’t quite force herself to care as Stannis begins to gently move his hips back and forward, brushing his hard length against her. She must look wanton, fiery hair spread out on the pillows, naked and flushed and skin dewey with perspiration. It’s a fight to keep her eyes open, heavy with want and being pulled closed by the force of sensation drifting through her. _So lovely_ …

“My lady—“

Sansa forces her eyes to open and sees Stannis’ face contorted in a grimace as he stills above her.

“I will be gentle—”

Sansa smiles and raises her hand to cup his cheek. “I know. I’ll be fine.”

There are only whispers between them after that, soft murmurs of reassurance and the steady pressure Sansa feels as Stannis enters her, ever so slowly, until they are pressed together, hips to hips and breathing in short shallow breaths, unable to look away from the other. It feels unbelievably strange, to know and be closer to another person than she has been at any point in her life. For a handful of breaths they are still, and then Sansa clenches around him, watching in fascination as Stannis punches out a breath and his hands fist in the sheets. Shae had told her men were very sensitive there and should Sansa try it at least once, she should make sure to watch the King’s face. Shae had also informed her of several positions that would be more for ‘her’. Sansa thinks her favourite one will be where she is on top - her cheeks burn red when she remembered their moment on the sofa together and a rush of warmth flows through her making her sigh.

When the pain eases away leaving only pressure and a tingling anticipation, Stannis begins to move. It’s slow and careful and sweat gathers on the back of Stannis’ neck and atop his forehead. His breathing becomes more erratic when Sansa sighs and her hands grip his shoulders, her hips rising up to meet his steady movements. It quickly becomes _not enough_.

She can’t help but let out a frustrated moan and in reaction Stannis stills completely, freezing in place, eyes dilated as he searches her face for any sign of pain.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, muscles straining as he prepares himself to pull out, reining himself in already—

“Don’t you dare,” she says with a whine, eyes closing and her face twisting in pleasure as her hands reach forward to grasp his hips and pull him forward sharply. Stannis groans and starts to move again and the feelings between them build and build and build…

“Harder Stannis, _please_.” she begs, gasping as she is driven toward the edge, reaching one hand down to the auburn curls between her legs Sansa begins to touch herself in fast movements. It’s not long before she’s crying out, clenching down around him as she crests the wave, trembling and shaking.

Stannis thinks through the haze of building release and energy shooting through his limbs that he has married a fairy, a creature so beautiful and sure in her own pleasure that it is an impossible stroke of luck that she could have chosen him to wed. His wife, _his Queen_ , pale skin flushed and eyes squeezed shut, head tossing from side to side, is in that moment, as perfect as anyone has ever been. She cries out and her walls clench down around him as he moves, so hot and tight around his shaft that Stannis’ release comes upon him with a wordless shout, spilling into the woman beneath him, hips jerking against hers as his pleasure races through him.

In the end, heart still racing and limbs shaking he slowly pulls out and collapses at her side. Stannis wraps his arms around her as she tucks her head beneath his chin in a movement that feels so natural it is as though they were made just for this.

The practical side of him knows they will need to wash soon to avoid any unpleasant stickiness but he can’t bring himself to move, feeling completely boneless and very tired. Sansa hums against his side and reaches for the cloth on the bedside table, wetting and wringing the cloth before gently attending to herself and then Stannis. She lets out a sweet little laugh as he grumbles, tossing the cloth to land somewhere in the room, and pulls the covers up over them both when they settle down to sleep.

His eyes begin to close and breathing evens out as sleep pulls him under.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end...

Sansa wakes slowly in the darkened room. Awareness coming to her slowly. There is a dull ache between her legs and small sharp pains in muscles she’s never used, but above all that she is content. She is warm and safe, cocooned in blankets and the slow breathing of Stannis who is now her husband and her king.

Memories of last night wash through her in waves sending sparks shooting through her when she recalls how they’d kissed, touched and how he felt inside her. Sansa can barely bite back a moan in time as another thought occurs to her. Shae had described the act as ‘riding’ and though Sansa had never been particularly fond of the equestrian sort, she is sure she will show far more enthusiasm and dedication for this activity.

Stannis is asleep on his back and his face is relaxed in sleep. She knows he rarely gets more than a few hours being so busy as the King, so she waits till it’s nearly dawn, letting her husband sleep a little more till she moves.

She knows when he wakes because his breathing changes, definitely not so deep as it bad been and almost unnoticeable had she not been looking for it. As she brushes her fingers across his jaw and up to brush through his hair his eyes open and Sansa desperately hopes Stannis will be willing to let her lead.

“Good morning” she says, her voice coming out huskier than she’d intended it to. The hour of waiting had not been done simply sitting idly by, having tortured herself with little fantasies of how this scenario would go when her husband woke. She imagined Stannis cottoning on to her flushed sloe eyed look and purring voice, grasping her hips with his large hands and guiding her to sit atop of him…

“Good morning, My Lady.” Stannis rumbles and Sansa has to bite her lip around the breathy sigh that partially escapes. “Did you sleep well?” he inquires cautiously, eyes searching her face.

“I did My Lord,” Sansa replies, it is almost a purr, “I slept most deeply.”

Two spots of colour appear high on his cheeks. “And —ahem— are you in any pain?” 

“No pain, My Lord…” she says softly, letting her hand lay on his bare chest, fingers light and idly playing with the dark hairs curling there “…just an ache.” her hand trails down and down, following the thickening trail of hair toward his hips while her eyes never leave his face which is taking on a light flush - of embarrassment or arousal she can’t quite tell.

“I will call for your maid.” Stannis jerks like a skittish colt and makes to get out of bed, “She may ask the maester for some tea.”

Sansa presses her hand flat to Stannis’ chest and he stills under her stare.

“It is not an ache that will be satisfied by tea My Lord—no Maester can help me.” As she speaks Sansa sits up letting the covers slip away to reveal her breasts and belly, the sheet just barely covering the tops of her thighs. “Only you…” she watches, fascinated as a red stain creeps up Stannis’ neck and his breathing becomes shallower. This is power, Sansa thinks, to see how much a man —a king— can want her. Her hand slips beneath the covers and her slight fingers wrap around her prize wringing a sharp hiss from her husband.

Sansa knows he has few who are truly close to him and that the King is not known to take women like his elder brother had once done. She knows he was never the favourite, though handsome enough, he had spurned the attentions of those who sought to attach themselves to him for what he owned and who he was. Sansa wonders whether it is because she touches him freely, wanting to do so because of how he makes her feel, that makes the difference.

“There is no need, My Lady, you have already done your duty—” 

While he speaks Sansa’s hand moves slowly up and down, a heated smile playing at the corners of her lips, feeling almost drunk at the sight of the usually cold Stannis Baratheon flustered as he hardens at her touch. “You must think poorly of me if you believe I married you only because it was my duty to do so.” 

“We engaged last night—“ Stannis says through gritted teeth, eyes clenched shut, clearly affected by the way her hand moves around him. 

Sansa’s smile widens and perhaps it is just a little predatory, “I remember, My Lord, and I would very much like to engage you again.”

Stannis groans and Sansa cannot help the low whine that escapes her when the ache deepens. Feeling him hot and hard under her hand it is impossible to remain unaffected.

*****

It’s impossible, Stannis tells himself, that she could want him again so soon. A brilliant impossibility, and he would not have believed it if he had not seen it with his own eyes and heard it with his own ears. She takes her time with him, and for once he barely knows what to do with himself - her wish to lead is clear. It has always been his impression, from what he had been told by his father and brother, that a Lord must lead his lady in such matters. It is only now that he thinks they might have been wrong, or perhaps hoped he would discover otherwise on his own.

“If you wish it, My Lady.” Stannis replies through gritted teeth, his eyes opening just a fraction to gaze upon her flushed face and parted lips. She catches him looking at her and there is a curious light in her sloe eyed gaze that he will come to recognise more readily later in their marriage as trouble.

He groans as her hand flexes around him - it is torture. He wants to make her hold him a little tighter and move her hand on him a little faster, but her pace and grip remains the same - a slow, torturous stroke that nearly drives him mad.

“Enough,” he growls and Sansa immediately stops her eyes blinking rapidly as a flush comes over her cheeks.

“You want to stop — oh, I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have…”

“I meant,” Stannis says, sitting up to clasp her wrists in his hands before she can pull completely away, “enough teasing.” A dark blush comes over her cheeks and he can’t help the way his heart lurches in his chest as she swoops forward, cupping his face between both of her hands, and kisses him firmly on the mouth. His arms slide around her waist, and while they’re kissing, she gracefully brings her leg over to straddle him. 

He bites back a groan as she rubs herself against him. At first her movements are tentative, and then, as she watches his chest rise and fall a little quicker each time, she gains in confidence and begins grinding down against him an amazed smile appearing on her flushed face. 

Stannis is all too happy, and a little curious too, to let her lead. As she leans forward to kiss him, one hand reaching back to guide him to her entrance, he can barely breathe as she lowers herself down slowly, eyes closed and shaking until they are pressed flush against one another. His eyes are determined to cross or close or blur or even a combination of the three because the feeling of her wrapped tightly around him is enough to make him see stars. He struggles to keep his eyes open and focused on her face as her expression changes from one moment to the next; mouth open and gasping or teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut as she whines and grinds down in a circle against his hips. He does not simply lay there and gasp however, though his mind feels as though it’s about to turn to mush and leak from his ears. Stannis brings his large callused hands smooth up and down her sides, cupping her breasts and side of her face, even smoothing over her thighs when her hips buck a little too sharply and she trembles, barely able to contain what she’s feeling. The combination of looking at his wife in the midst of her pleasure and feeling her wrapped around him is almost too much. He breathes hard, teeth clenched against the tide welling up inside him. He wanted to wait, to see what she looked like, to focus on her expression in the midst of her pleasure, but he can’t hold on and her walls clench down around him as she cries out. It’s too much and he can’t hold on, his jaw aches something fierce and he lets out a choked groan as his back arches, hips thrusting up hard between his wife’s trembling thighs as they reach their peak. Then it’s over in a rush that leaves them both gasping for air, bright flashes of light dancing in their eyes, dark around the edges until it fades and they can see each other again. 

Sansa slumps forward on his chest, her back arched and her trembling forearms support her on his torso as she continues to quiver and gasp in the aftermath of their release. Stannis too is gasping for breath, feeling as though all his limbs have turned to jelly and so relaxed he feels sleep drawing him under…”My Lady?” he rasps and Sansa looks up, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright, fiery hair falling in a long silken curtain either side of her face as she meets his gaze. She blushes hard and now she looks at him shyly. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, your Grace.” She says breathlessly, her voice filled with lazy satisfaction. “It was perfect.” Stannis can’t help but snort and he hears hesitation creep into her tone, “I only hope that my boldness was not…incorrect.”

Stannis shakes his head. He had told her that they would do their duty when trying to produce an heir for the Kingdom, now however, he realises that duty was the thing furthest from his mind when she had reached down to take him in hand. “Not incorrect. Your actions were well received. In case you couldn’t tell.”

Her laugh is like music and her smile is brighter than the first warm rays of light coming through the gaps in the curtains, she is fascinating to him and as she leans down to press a soft kiss against his lips Stannis thinks that perhaps, just this once, he will be a little late to his meetings. Surely they would not begrudge him a few extra hours with his new Queen? Not that he believes the Small council would be able to remove him from their quarters anyhow. 

“Will you stay a while longer, Your Grace?” she murmurs against his lips as she moves to lay beside him, guiding his arms to cushion her head and wrap around her waist.

He finds he doesn’t mind at all.

“Yes, my Lady. I will.”

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end, I'm sorry you all had to wait so long but smut is definitely not my forte (it's actually the first I've ever written something like this) so I hope you'll forgive me!
> 
> Edit: thank you all for your amazing comments on this fic, I'm so glad you all enjoyed it and your support through hits, kudos and comments really helped me get this finished and helped make the smut happen ;) I WILL be writing more for Stansa in the future - a new fic is in the planning stages - though this one with more plot than smut but features stiff but protective Stannis and little Shireen who is of course adorable <3 Not to mention the other fic that's been plaguing me lately (don't worry I've written the idea down...in detail). So, thanks again for all your support and keep your eyes out for the new fic, it will likely be up in the next month or two (uni deadlines are approaching!)
> 
> Ok so maybe I lied. I couldn't stay away and so 'All is Aglow' is being written and posted to AO3 now.

**Author's Note:**

> 3 chapters so far. may post more if inspiration strikes - feel free to chat with me in the comments :)


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